Daedalus Reunion
by Allienna
Summary: The Daedalus and her small fleet of support ships had just completed a very heated engagement with remnants of the Ori. This story is a heavily edited and revised version of something my father started many years ago. My thanks and gratitude go to him for allowing me to continue with it.


**Family Matters**

**Four days ago.**

The young woman handed her supervisor the letter, he read it and then read it again. "Are you sure about this? I mean I know you are worried about your family, but I need you here..."

"I have thought about this for a month Abraham, and believe me, if there were any other way, I wouldn't be asking for this." She hefted her gun from the holster and placed it on the table in front of her.

The supervisor looked at it and thought for a moment. "Alright then thirty seven, but I won't accept your resignation. I'll give you an extended leave and I'll expect to see you back here sometime soon, how does that settle with you?" He took the gun and placed it in his drawer, took a folder and pushed it across the table.

Thirty seven opened the manila folder. "Airline tickets, passport?"

"I've known you long enough haven't I? Good luck and take care," He stood and shook her hand warmly. "And don't forget Hayden, you still represent this agency and the Air Force, but at this time we have no idea of your movements, are we clear?"

"Yes sir and thank you sir?" She turned and walked out briskly, her long red/auburn hear swaying as she went down the long corridor.

**Two days ago**

The PA announcement seemed loud in her ears as she stood before the customs official. _"Passengers from QA nineteen please proceed directly to customs."_ It was the third time she had heard that since she entered the vast Los Angeles airport. Her flight, was delayed by a storm crossing the Pacific from Hawaii, but at least she was here now. The officer went through her bags thoroughly, asked the usual questions and then directed her to the domestic terminal for the ongoing flight to Colorado.

A tall athletic blonde walked into Poor Richard's restaurant, she saw the man she had arranged to meet sitting in a both alone, typical black suited spook. She waived the waitress away and proceeds straight to his table and sat opposite him. "Agent Barrett?"

He stared at her hard, took note of the blonde hair hanging across her shoulders. He laughed a small chuckle. "Damn straight I am Hayden, or is it thirty seven, or..."

"Don't even go there...Malcolm." She held her hand up and said his name with emphasis. "Now is everything arranged?"

He leaned across the table, close to her face, the Chanel perfume was intoxicating. It always was on her. "You are going to get me into a lot of shit for this if you screw up." He said softly and handed her a key.

"I don't come empty handed, here." She slid a photograph across, he looked at it and sat back, stuffing the picture in his jacket pocket. "It's him alright, you say this was in Hong Kong last week?"

"Yes, and I have two agents in his circle now. He won't do a thing without us knowing. Say how many frigging clones did he make anyway, and how do you know this is not the real deal?" She placed the key in her jeans,

In a hushed voice he answered. "We don't know the answer to either. Whether the one SG1 witnessed being de-snaked was the real one, or a clone no one can be sure now. The host certainly doesn't know. We talked to him for months, yet it was always the same. His answers only conferred what we knew about the original, nothing more." He shrugged his shoulders and stood. "Well I better be going..." He mouthed her name silently. "...take care and if you see your cousin, say hello for me."

"I will and thank you again." She sat for a moment pondering something before standing, then pushed her six foot frame up, she topped the NID agent by inches, close to him she said. "Maybe I'll take up that dinner date sometime." She smiled at him.

He laughed softly. "Heh, that was what three years ago when we first met." He looked at the wedding ring on her hand. "You still miss him don't you?"

"Yes...but you know I do eat now and then." They left together, Malcolm paid his tab and headed for his car once they were outside, he turned before opening the door. "I'll hold you to that." He got in and she watched the black sedan slowly drive away, then headed for her rental and within minutes she was on her way to the safe house in Colorado Springs.

**Twelve hours ago**

The security fence was no problem, neither were the dogs, they actually tried to lick her face when she knelt to offer them a very special morsel. The lock on the lid of the escape hatch tube didn't faze her either, and finally twenty seven levels down she reached her final obstacle, she listened for movement by placing her ear to the metal of the door, at three in the morning there should only be a bare security in the place. Hearing nothing, she proceeded to remove the eight screwed locks one by one, using an acid that would leave no smell. The commanding officer would have a small problem to deal with when it was reported the place had been breached, but they would not trace it back to her.

Now finally she was in, no one was about, she could hear the faint sound of conversation, toward what she knew to be the Gate room, but nothing else. Medlab one was her destination and she moved on. Walking casually she was within ten metres of the room, when an older airman, a Master Sergeant came toward her, he looked briefly at her, seeing she had her cap on and saluted smartly.

"Ma'am." Was all he said, and proceed on his way. She took note of his name tag, 'Walter Harriman' then carried on her way until she found herself in the front room of the medical wing.

She scanned around looking for the locker Malcolm told her of and found it, took a few steps back and turned right into the ward, one nurse and two patients in there, the nurse was dozing by one of the beds in a chair. Returning to the front room and the cabinet, she took out her ever present kit and had the door opened in seconds, she found the vials and the air powered injection gun, loaded a single blue vial and went to the computer terminal. There she found the bracket to hold the gun and placed it there, and hacked the computer. She found all her data there, so Agent Barrett had not let her down so far. It took only a minute to download her ID into the vial, then she removed her jacket and shirt and inserted the personal locator into her shoulder with a soft hiss of air from the gun. The young woman replaced everything re-locked the cabinet and as calm as she came in, went looking for the room she knew would be set aside for her. On level nine she found it opened the door with her new identity card, which worked perfectly and entered. Closing the door softly she then turned the light on and found a kit bag on the bed, and a note. She read it.

"_Your folks are going to be so pissed, just so long as they never find out it was me." _It was signed Malcolm Barrett. She folded it, tore it and then went into the small bathroom and flushed it away. Now all she had to do was wait. After undressing she got into the comfortable bed and was asleep in moments.

Walter never missed much. The second he was in his chair in the control room he was on the computer. His watch buddy, hadn't even noticed he had slipped away to the toilet, as he snored in the other chair. Walter would wake him shortly as they were both due to go off watch at four. He mumbled the name to himself _"Hayden" _and typed it in. There were six on the SGC files, scanning down, he found the one he was looking for. A RAAF Flight Lieutenant who had come in from the Gamma base four days ago, awaiting transfer to one of the new cruisers, the 'Fraiser'. That was her face, he was looking at, but he just could not place seeing her before. He looked at the log time and saw she had arrived when he was off watch. Well ok he thought, but there was something strange about her. Her looked hard at the face, wiped his glasses and looked again. "Damn, a lot younger, but if she's not related to Colonel Carter, I'm drunk." He softly said, then nudged the airman beside him.

**Two Hours ago**

Walter raced into General Landry's office, looking slightly excited. Hank sitting behind his finely polished desk looked up at his Chief Master Sergeant with an expectant look. "Yes Walter? You have news I hope?"

"Yes sir, General Caldwell has returned with the Daedalus, Fraiser and Britannia from the three forty's trials sir he's ready to be..."

The familiar smell of ozone filled the room as Caldwell appeared standing at the door. "General Landry, everything went well, all systems are better than expected and both ships are ready for duty."

"Walter you're dismissed, Steven take a seat please."

"Yes sir, ah sirs, would you like any coffee or something?" Walter delayed hoping to hear something, anything to relieve his routine.

"No Walter, you can go." Hank then indicted again for Caldwell to sit, which he did rather apprehensively, Walter ducked out, but he was never far away.

"Now, first things first. You're a staff officer now, so forget the titles Steven, I know it takes some getting used to, but that star you're wearing has its entitlements." He smiled ever so briefly.

"Ah yes Ge...Hank. It is a bit of a change. When General O'Neill, ah Jack put me in command of fleet procurement and testing I said great, a nice peaceful path to my retirement. It didn't quite work out that way though."

"Retirement is overrated anyway." Hank said with a wry smile on his face. "Now, how would you like to lead your new ships on a mission Steven?" Landry stood and moved to the side of his desk, Caldwell took this as a queue that the brief chat was about to end, so he pushed his chair back and raised his lanky frame. Hank continued on.

"We have a problem with Admiral MacGregor's mission, it seems there is trouble. He may be hurt or worse, I'm not sure. But be prepared for his evacuation back to the SGC. Captain Connolly is out there as well, so if the mission is not complete by the time you get there, I want you to make sure it happens."

"Yes Gen..Hank, was there anything else?" Steven raised his hand to his coms, and paused.

"No, that will be all, and good luck. Oh I almost forgot, you have six new crew members boarding with you, they're waiting in the embarkation room."

"Thanks I'll be needing them. And I hope I don't have to call on the luck." He smiled and clicked the ear piece. "Daedalus, ready, plus six in the gate room." Strangely, the number was originally five and had somehow grown to six overnight with the addition of a Flight Lieutenant Catherine Hayden, no one questioned it.

-OOOOOOO-

The mighty Daedalus, had just pulled a rabbit out of the hat, missing her end, at least from the enemies' point of view by micro seconds. Now at last, there was a moment of down time; for some at least. But does the drama end, not for some it would seem.

-OOOOOOO-

Cate stood outside the room for a few moments, rather at a loss as to what to do. She wanted to remain close to her father, but also knew that it could be hours before he was treated and conscious. Normally, she'd find some task to do, something to keep her mind busy. But she didn't have that here. Heck, officially she wasn't even supposed to _**be**_ here.

A medical tech pushed past her and she stepped back, feeling uncomfortably conspicuous. Years of being 'low key' kicked in and Cate left the infirmary, a passing blond officer giving her a flash of inspiration. Sam. That's what she could do. She could go and find Sam. If nothing else, the woman could give her something to do, or at least some guidance on staying out of the way.

Figuring that her cousin was most likely on the bridge, Cate made her way up there, noting a few scorched panels and broken conduits along the way.

The Daedalus - while in one piece and certainly space worthy - had taken a bit of damage it seemed. Then again, any battle you could walk - fly - away from was a good one.

She finally arrived at the bridge, both pleased and concerned that no one challenged her. A ship should have better security than this. A bridge officer glanced at her and walked over to her. "Ma'am, can I help you?" he asked, positioning himself directly in her path.

_'Maybe the security's not that bad,'_ she thought to herself. "Yes, captain," she said, noting the man's rank. "I was looking for Colonel Carter."

"She and General Caldwell are going over battle damage and casualties," the man said. He didn't offer to tell Cate where they were, and she didn't push. If she felt uncomfortably out of place now, she knew she'd feel even more so barging in on a command level meeting. The man's eyes darted lower and Cate glanced down, surprised to find a few smears of blood on her jumpsuit.

Cate nodded. "I'm Cate Hayden. If Colonel Carter asks, if you could tell her I'll be in my quarters." She didn't volunteer any additional info. Two could play at this game. Besides, now that she knew that Mac's blood was on her uniform, she desperately wanted to get it off.

"I'll be happy to ma'am," the captain answered, remaining in place until Cate turned and left the bridge. She made her way down to her quarters. Planning to take five minutes and to change into something that blended in a bit better, she entered the room, noting that the doors had no locks.

She pulled a regulation jumpsuit out of the tiny closet and sat down on the bed, not even looking down as she unlaced her boots. The heavy leather footwear thudded to the floor and she stood up, tugging at the long zipper.

The jumpsuit opened and she glanced down, sighing when she saw a few stains of blood on the tank top she wore under the jumpsuit. She yanked the white tank top over her head and tossed it across the room before she bent over the small chest of drawers, pulling out another one.

Suddenly the door to her quarters opened and she stood up, instinctively clutching the tank top to her bare chest. A man stood in the doorway, blinking owlishly at the half naked woman. Cate's instincts for fight or flight ramped into high gear for a few seconds until she recognized that the man was no threat, he was Doctor Daniel Jackson, one of Sam's friends.

"Oh, umm, wow, I'm sorry," he fumbled as a couple of crewmen walked behind him in the hall, both pausing to stare at the show. "Do you mind?" she asked. He stared at her for a few seconds before he realized what was going on and abruptly stepped into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. Cate shook her head and turned her back on him, sliding the shirt over her head. "Don't they teach you how to knock on Earth," she growled as she turned back around. She refused to feel embarrassed by the shorts she was wearing. They covered more than any bathing suit ever would.

"Don't they teach you not to squat in someone else's room," he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. "These are my quarters," she said. "Hence the panties in the drawer instead of **tighty whities**."

"You're partially right," he said, pushing up his glasses. "These _**were**_ my quarters. I'm bunking with Teal'c now. So, sorry about that," he apologized. "I actually just came down to grab something I forgot and I didn't think anyone would be in here."

He walked past her into the tiny bathroom and Cate took the opportunity to pull on her jumpsuit and was sitting on the bed when he returned. She pulled on her boots and ignored him as he walked towards the door. "I am sorry about...that," he said, turning to face her as she looked up. "You kinda caught me off guard."

"Ditto," she replied, tying the laces on one boot. "No harm done."

"Still, I should make it up to you," he said.

"Don't worry about it," she dismissed, turning her attention to her other boot.

"I do," he said. "See, Sam will find out eventually and then there'll be hell to pay...and trust me, I'd rather face a battalion of Jaffa than a pissed off Sam Carter."

"It'll be our little secret," Cate said, finished with her boots and getting to her feet.

Daniel shook his head. "No, it won't. I know that one officer, he'll blab to the whole ship by dinner time. Coffee and pie, that's all I'm asking."

"Look, Doctor Jackson-"

"Daniel."

"Doctor," she said pointedly. "Don't worry about it." Almost on cue, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it'd been several hours since her last meal. Her mind drifted for a moment to that last dinner she shared with her husband, before he shipped out. It was a miserable stormy night and her stomach rumbled then as they sat in a small booth at their favorite little Italian restaurant.

"It's coffee and pie in a public room," he said. "You gotta eat."

Cate sighed and nodded. "I guess it beats me wandering around the ship until I find it," she relented. She followed him out of the room and they walked towards the lift. "Have you known Sam long?" she asked.

"A little over ten years," he replied. "We were both on SG-1 together."

"Right," she said. "She, aah, not that we're pen pals or anything, but she never talked about it much."

"That's Sam," he shrugged. "Takes classified seriously."

"She takes a lot of things seriously," Cate said, punching the button to summon the lift. The lift arrived and the doors opened.

"Well, if it's any consolation, she never really talked about her family much so..." he said.

"The Carters and MacGregor's are pretty much a 'see each other at weddings and funerals' kind of family. I haven't seen Sam since her mother passed away, and I was quite young then." Cate said, following him in as he pushed the button for the mess level. "What did you do on SG-1?" she asked, much more comfortable to be asking instead of answering questions.

"Resident linguist and archaeologist," he said, flashing her a grin. "And, depending on who you ask, chief troublemaker."

-OOOOOOO-

The lift door opened and the two of them walked out, Cate half following Daniel and half following her instincts to the mess hall. Once there it took them only minutes to select some food. Daniel stuck to his promised pie and coffee, but Cate indulged in a bowl of soup and some fruit to go along with her pie. Their trays laden, Daniel led them to a table in the corner and she didn't know if it was deliberate or an accident that he let her have the chair with its back against the wall.

"How about you?" he asked, as he sipped his coffee. He grimaced and set the cup down, reaching for the sugar. "What brings you aboard the Daedalus?"

"Classified," she quipped, spooning up her soup.

"You know I'll just ask Sam," he threatened.

Cate studied her bowl, suddenly fascinated with the chunks of carrots and potatoes floating in the beef broth. "My brother, Ben," she said. "He's ...aah out here somewhere."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "SGC? I know we've grown a lot but I wasn't aware of any MIA's."

"Ben wasn't supposed to be with the SGC," she said simply. "We were never that close but...a couple of years ago my husband died. Ben should have been there for me and he wasn't and now he's gone missing, and I want answers. Which is why Mac is here, or at least one reason and...I can't just sit home and wait beside the phone," she finished with a shrug.

"I'm sorry," he said, setting down his fork. "It must have been a bad accident."

She frowned. "What?"

Daniel gaped a second. "Well, I'm kinda making a leap here but...well I couldn't help but see the scars and..." he trailed off, raising his hands. "I've probably stepped on all sorts of toes."

Cate grinned wryly, the man's self-effacing nature cooling her ire. "My husband died in Afghanistan. The, aah, new body art is courtesy of a few North Koreans that took offense at me being in their country." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. It was better than giving into the memories of the fear and pain. Of the hot blood that ran down her hands as she slit the one guard's throat. It was better than admitting that there were a couple of dumpsters in Melbourne that - on a hot day - stank just like the hell hole she'd spent one eternal week caged up in.

She deliberately took a big bite of the soup, using the pain from singing her tongue to banish her memories. "That's another reason to get off world," she said, forcing her voice to be light. "And a part of my life I'd rather the whole ship not know."

Daniel made the turning key gesture in front of his lips. "It sucks being famous," he said, understanding and kindness in his eyes. "Although for us...it was less fleeing Earth than other planets. Teal'c used to keep count but...I understand that there's several dozen planets where our wanted posters grace the equivalent of their post office wall.."

"Are you telling me you have a reputation, Doctor Jackson?" she asked, taking refuge in his teasing.

"We had bounties on our heads and everything. Jack thought it was cool...I kinda found it a pain in the ass."

More people walked into the mess and Cate recognized Doctor Ainsley. Daniel followed her gaze. "They must be done with your dad," he said. Cate looked back at him. "I know Ainsley. He wouldn't be down here if he was worried."

"Yeah," she said, looking helplessly at the tray in front of her.

"Go," Daniel said, flicking his hands towards her. "Check on your dad."

Cate smiled and pushed back from the table. "Thanks," she said, hurrying from the room.

-OOOOOOO-

She nearly jogged the short distance from them mess to the infirmary. It took her only a few minutes to find Mac. Her father was sitting up in a bed, brilliant white patches of gauze covering the wounds he'd received. And IV was taped to the back of his left hand and Cate noticed a certain level of blur in his eyes. Obviously, Doctor Ainsley had either rendered her father totally unconscious or at least heavily sedated him. Which probably accounted for him still being in the infirmary rather than somewhere else.

Two people stood beside the bed, a young man whose bearing screamed 'military' and a dark haired woman whose stance screeched just the opposite. Both looked a bit rough around the edges, their faces smudged with dirt and grime and the man's shirt had a torn sleeve. They both took a bit of a protective stance, the man's arms tensing and the woman turning a bit to place herself firmly between Cate and Mac.

Their low conversation broke off and Mac looked up, blinking as if to clear his vision "Catherine Susanne MacGregor," he growled. "I had hoped I was damned seeing things."

"Yeah good to see you too, dad," she said, nonplussed by his anger. She'd have been more worried had he been silent. The man beside the bed simply raised his eyebrows and relaxed a bit while the woman cocked her hip and put her hands on her waist. "Someone you know, Mac?" she asked.

"You can bloody well say so," Mac growled. "Except it can't be her because she's supposed to be on Earth." He struggled to sit up in the bed. "What the bloody hell are you doing here!" he demanded, raising his voice with every word.

"My job," Cate said, her ire rising. She wasn't in the mood to be dressed down by him, and even less so with spectators.

"Your job, young lady, in on Earth," he shot back.

"My job is wherever Her Majesty sends me," Cate said, her joy at her father's condition fading by the word. She knew he'd be pissed, but she didn't need this.

"Umm, maybe we should be going," the man said.

"Nonsense, Cameron," the woman said. "This is just getting good."

"Vala," he growled.

"There's no way in hell you were sent here!" Mac yelled at Cate, ignoring the other two. "I made damn sure of that!"

"Oh you did, did ya now?" Cate asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Got a direct line to her Majesty do ya?"

"Don't you sass me, lass!" he roared. Behind her Cate could hear silence and she could imagine exactly what it looked like as an infirmary full of people got a ringside seat to a fully fledged MacGregor tantrum.

"Don't you talk to me like I'm still a child!" she yelled back. "And don't you give me that crap about Earth being safe, because I can sure as hell tell you that it's not!"

"Umm, maybe both of you should try talking instead of yelling." Cate turned to see Daniel standing a few feet away. He held up his hands. "Sorry, I came to check on the Admiral and couldn't help but overhear." He made a little face. "Of course, I think everyone kinda overheard."

"Brilliant observation there, Jackson," Cameron said.

"You really must give him a break, he's had a bad day, " Vala said, sashaying over to Daniel and twining her arm with his. "And an equally bad night."

"Vala," Daniel groaned, pulling his arm free. "Not now. Admiral, it was nice to meet your daughter and put a face to the name," Daniel said smiling at Mac.

Mac frowned. "I never talked to you about Cate."

"Ouch," Vala quipped, leaning against the bedside table.

"Gee thanks, dad," Cate said, snagging a chair.

"I mean, not beyond…why are you here?" Mac asked again, his tone calmer.

"Ben," Cate said simply.

"Damnit Catherine," Mac groaned.

"Ben?" Cameron asked.

Cate ignored him. "Dad, I'm not going to leave him out here. And you can yell and scream at me all you want, but I'm not going home until I find him."

Mac sighed. "Cate, you have no idea what it's like out here. It's not safe."

"It's also not all bad," Vala said. Everyone turned to look at her. "Ok, so a lot of it can be bad but…there are some not so bad places out there. As a matter of fact, going by my experiences, I've run into more trouble on Earth than off it."

"Yeah, well you're special that way," Cameron quipped. "I think trouble is your middle name."

"Dad, Earth isn't safe," she said. "And you're not going to leave me behind while Mom and Julie and you are out here." She got to her feet. "I'm not going home until I find him. And if you won't let me stay on this ship, I'll just find another."

She spun on her heel and left the room. "Excuse me Admiral I think I'll go talk to her." Daniel said as he hurried after her. Vala gave a small protest but saw the concerned look on her friend's face and conceded.

"I'll go as well."

"Good luck." Mac yelled at the last two retreating backs. Cam recognized a deep worry on the older man's face and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Sir, do you really think this is doing you any good. I mean in theory you should be dead, _**we all **_should be. But especially you. And what was that sphere thing around you that saved us? Asgard tech?"

"Later Cam, I'll explain later. Help me up will you, I've got a delinquent to sort out." He deliberately put Cam off.

At that very moment, just as Cam placed his arm around Mac's back, Steven Caldwell came around the corner with a reddened face. Concern showed on him like a beacon. "Will, Colonel." He addressed them both. "We've just received a distress call from the Victory."

**Reconciliation**

"So, how long will it take you to tear these stitches?"

"Have faith, Doctor." The Admiral grimaced as he adjusted his clothing. "As much as I love being in hospital, I don't want to see you again anytime soon. No offense intended."

"None taken." The physician fiddled with some papers on his clipboard. "Just remember to go talk to Caldwell. He's been patient up until now, but—"

"I know." Will eased himself off the bed. "Are they still outside?"At the doctor's nod, Will made his way towards the infirmary door, exiting to find Mitchell and Teal'c waiting for him in the hall.

"Feeling better, Admiral?" Cam fell into step beside him, while Teal'c took up the rear.

"A bit." Will glanced at the Colonel. "Where's Sam?"

"Decoding something for Caldwell." Cam led them through a set of doors, and then another, before turning a wide corner that angled into the control area. "She's not too happy."

As they entered the bridge, Will could feel the tension before he saw it. Tight bodies—stiff statures. Lines on Caldwell's face that hadn't been there before. The Admiral made his way towards where the younger man stood speaking with Sarah Connolly. Their manner—their hushed, stilted tones, told him more than their words would. He wasn't going to like what they had to tell him.

And in the distance beyond the bridge windows, he saw the distinct shape of a strange new ship filling the entire field of vision beyond _Daedalus's_ bow.

He grimaced, then stopped next to Caldwell. "What's going on Steven?"

"It's the Victory, Admiral. The mission was a disaster, I've contacted the SGC and General O'Neill wants us to return ASAP. And we've managed to royally peeve the IOA, too."

"That's the last thing we need now. What exactly has Suschenko sent us? Anything other than _'disaster'._" Just the sight of the Ancient ship floating just beyond his reach was enough to lower his mood to match the rest of the room's.

"No sir." He looked away, loathe to meet the Admiral's eye. "He also mentioned some missing personnel."

A subtle shift behind him had Will turning to find his niece standing to his left. She placed a gentle hand on his arm and gave a slight squeeze.

"Sir, I think we should withdraw for the moment. I know what you're thinking and you're right. If we turn that ship over to the IOA now, it won't see the light of day for years." She pressed her lips together briefly before continuing. "I took the liberty of telling Sarah and Steven that for now, the ship is inactive and we can't get it going again. Sarah has told me it's probably eighty percent complete, weapons and most systems are active, with only a few interior areas unfinished."

Despite the situation, Will found himself grinning. "Sam, you're saying we lie to them?"

"Well, yeah sort of. Unless you're going to tell on us."

He made a rough sound in the back of his throat. "No one likes a tattle-tale. Is there a plan to this—or are we just winging it?"

Sarah glanced at Caldwell, and then at Will. "I'll stay with the ship, sir, with a small contingent until we can work something out. The Victory should be with us soon in this vector and someone will need to make sure Suschenko knows as well. He'll listen to me sir."

"Well, aren't you all a nest of conspirators?" Will clasped his hands, looking at each of the officers in turn. "Very well then."

He turned towards Calwell. "Steven, set a course for home. In the meantime I have a child to straighten out. Sam, you want to come?"

"Ooh—that sounds like fun." Her eyes brightened unnaturally, her face abnormally cheery. "But I need to go over some things with Captain Hailey."

Will shook his head in mock disappointment. "You sure? You know you love a good fight."

But Carter flashed him one of her signature smiles before leaning closer and softly adding, "I'll catch up with you both later, Uncle Will."

-OOOOOOO-

The knock was almost lost within the omnipresent drone of the ship's engines. Frowning, Cate looked up and over at the door, glaring at the grey panel until she heard the noise again.

Small, rhythmic taps—no more than a single knuckle rapping against the institutionalized make of the cabin's door. And even though the gesture was seemingly meek—she knew who it was.

Stubbornly, she resituated herself on her bunk, drawing her knees closer to her chest. Heels digging into the thin mattress of her bed, she closed her eyes and concentrated, hoping against hope that her silence, coupled with the pride of the person on the other side of her door, would force her visitor to leave.

She heard a stilted mutter, and then feet shifting heavily on the other side of the door. A larger thud—his forehead against the partition on the other side? Cate glanced back over—as if she could see through the walls and see what he was doing.

It was almost a relief when her eyes met nothing but stark gray. It was easier to deal with her father when she couldn't see him.

"Cate." His voice sounded slightly off somehow—as if his throat were tight, his breath short. His pain bled through the words, the tone, his normally strident cadence somewhat stilted. "Cate, we need to talk."

She rolled her eyes. Usually, when he said that, it meant that he needed to talk, and she needed to listen. Conversing wasn't something that came easily to men like Mac—powerful men—strong men. For years, the Admiral's wife had tried to get him to temper his manner with his daughter—and for years, she had failed. It wasn't the speaking part of communicating that Mac struggled with. It was the listening part.

A fact that blared into evidence with his words. "Cate. Let me in." Notably _not_ a request. It was an order.

She groaned and ran an exasperated hand through her hair. "Why should I?"

The pause was longer this time, and when his voice finally made its way through the partition, it sounded different—as if he were forcing himself into a box. "Cate. Please."

She counted to thirty. Then ten more. Finally, with a rough exhale, Cate stood and crossed to the door, opening it with a practiced swipe of her hand.

Her father stood a few feet from the entrance, obviously about to leave. As the door slid wide, he turned to face her, his face haggard and worn.

For a moment they just stared at each other—their stances, their expressions similar—indicative more than colouring or facial features that they did, indeed, share the same genes. And Cate felt stricken by how old her father suddenly appeared—and more human than she'd ever seen him before. More fragile. Breakable.

And it occurred to her for the first time in her life that the old man was just that—aging. Of course, being practically killed earlier couldn't have helped matters. Deep lines in his face showed worry, doubt, and something indefinable for a man such as Mac—something beyond fear—something worse.

Pain.

Physical? Mental? She watched as he rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, his broad cheek.

_Spiritual_?

"We need to talk about this, Cate."

"Dad, I—"

They'd spoken at the same time. Ruefully, one side of Cate's mouth twitched upwards, and she breathed deeply before ceding the conversation over to her father with a seemingly nonchalant wave of a flattened palm."You don't know what it's like out here." He stood back a step or two from the door, balanced perfectly on his feet. Feet apart, arms folded across his chest, shoulders straight, he looked more ready for battle than for reconciliation. Even so, he seemed nervous. He rocked backwards on his heels briefly before continuing. "You don't know the dangers."

"As opposed to what? Dodging Guidance Bureau troops moving out of Pyongyang?" At the Admiral's frown, she continued. "I assure you—the universe has nothing on stoic North Koreans and their ability to seriously crimp my style."

Mac snorted, his attempt at not rolling his eyes a brilliant failure. "You didn't belong there, either."

"You've said all this before, Dad." Cate leaned against the door frame, bracing one hand on her hip. "Believe me when I tell you that I've done quite an extensive risk and benefit analysis. I'm rather well educated, you know."

"How can you have taken them into consideration when you don't know what they are?" He shifted, gesturing tightly with one hand. "You have no idea what's out there."

"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't done my homework."

"Homework? You can't study up on these situations. Especially not when you're more used to other pursuits. This war isn't like Calculus or Home Economics."

Cate's jaw tightened. With a tense shake of her head, she narrowed her eyes. "So, now you're doubting not only my efficacy in my job, but also my research skills?"

"I'm not doubting anything."

"Oh please, Dad." She straightened, snorting with a derision she was only mildly surprised that she actually felt. "That's what you do best."

"Protect you from yourself?" His arms dropped to his sides, and he glared at her. "That sounds about right. _Someone_ needs to."

"No. Doubting." She shook her head more violently, this time. "That's what I meant. What you do best is doubt me."

Footsteps echoed in the close quarters of the hallway. Not in unison—a trio of soldiers emerged around a corner and then headed towards Mac, muttering their "excuse me, Sirs" as they passed him and wended their way through the gray corridor. Mac's eyes drifted shut, and his lips practically disappeared.

Cate waited until their passage was complete before answering her father.

"You're not trying to protect me." She leaned back against the frame, her shoulder landing painfully against a sharp edge. "You're trying to prove how unable I am. You're trying to prove yourself better. As usual."

"Cate."

"Listen. If this is all you came here for, then forget it." Cate pushed away from the wall and reached her hand towards the door controls. "I've already told you that I'm not leaving."

"Your mother—"

"Would support me, and you know it."

To Cate's surprise, her father didn't offer a rebuttal or reply. He simply froze, the only movement he made being a small twitch in the muscle at his temple.

"I hope you know that she would do what I'm doing." All of a sudden, her throat had closed up, and Cate found it hard to push the words past the tightness there. "If her husband were lost somewhere in the universe. And that Mom wouldn't rest until she'd found him. "

Mac's face fell, and he dropped his gaze towards the floor, to where his boots gleamed ebony against the bland, serviceable flooring of the ship. His fingers tensed on his waist as he drew a deep breath into the epic cavern of his chest. "She wouldn't if I'd asked her not to."

"And if you had no choice? If she were certain that you were being held against your will?"

The Admiral frowned, his brows hunching together over thin eyes. "I understand that you're trying to find Ben, we are as well—"

"_Brother,_ Dad. He's my brother, your son."

"And I know that. And I know that you're worried about him."

"I am."

"But you don't belong here." He raised his head enough to look her in the eye. "And you know it."

Heat burned at the back of her eyelids, and Cate swallowed a moan. "Why not? Because I'm not quite so military anymore? Or because I'm your daughter and not your son?"

"Catie."

She shook her head. "The thing is that you think you know me. But you don't. And you've never bothered to figure me out. Even when I was a kid, you didn't understand me." Her fingers teased at the "close" button on the control panel. "So I'll help you out. I'm _you_, Dad. Stubborn and officious and determined. And I'm not going anywhere near home until I can take my brother—my _family_—back there with me."

"Damn it, Cate."

"Damn it, Dad."

When he didn't say anything else, Cate looked away, down towards his feet, planted there in the hall like so many immovable trees. Symbolic? Sure. Of something that Cate didn't really want to explore. She closed her eyes for a breath, then felt her body sag a little. So tired—exhausted. So done.

"Whatever, Dad. Just go." She pressed the button, and moved backwards as the door began its slide home.

"Cate!" A sudden rush of movement blurred on the other side of the door, and the Admiral's hand appeared in the narrowing opening, his fingers curling around the moving panel. Like a lift door, the panel jerked backwards to reveal Mac standing close—brooding. "Please don't."

"Why shouldn't I? You're not listening to what I'm saying."

"The same could be said the other way, too."

"That's where you're wrong, Dad." Cate stepped backwards, lifting a hand to brush the hair back off her forehead. "I listen to what you say. I just don't happen to agree with it at the moment."

He stood in the doorway, awkward, slightly stooped to accommodate the frame. His normally implacable face hosted a myriad of emotions has he gazed at his daughter, until finally he lowered chin slightly and breathed deeply. Voice tight—more a growl than a tone, he gritted out his words. "You're right."

Cate had seen lightning once—jolting bright and brilliant out of a cloudless sky. She'd been at school at the time—year ten, as she remembered it, and her Phys Ed class had been playing field hockey. The lightning had hit a decent distance away, licking in perfect flame at a barren hill behind the school grounds. All activity on the field had stalled, with those having witnessed the bolt turning complete circles while looking heavenwards in an attempt to place the origination point. But there had been nothing obvious—merely blue, perfect skies and endless sunshine and absolutely no hint as to where the jolt had come from. It had been an aberration—an anomaly—a cosmic mistake.

Lightning from the blue.

And now, in a massive cruiser light years from home, Cate felt the same stunned wonder as she had all those years ago. She felt her mouth gape open and forced herself to clamp her lips shut.

There it was. The acknowledgement she'd been seeking.

But still, she couldn't keep herself from asking. "I'm what?"

"Right. What you said about your mother." His shoulders lifted slightly. "You're spot on. She'd leave no stone unturned."

Cate nodded, her jaw tensing as she waited.

"And she'd come to find me—or you—no matter what. And I would expect no less of her." The Admiral scowled. "Or of you."

And her anger dissipated just a bit—just enough for her to be able to look at the man sandwiched in the door frame and see him as something more than the overbearing tyrant she'd come to tolerate. But to see him as a man—a man who was worried about his child, about his wife, about his planet. A man who had more resting on his sizable shoulders than most men ever dreamed of.

And despite herself, a man she still loved with an intensity that unnerved her.

"Come on in, Dad." Cate stepped aside, offering no more than that in the way of invitations. "Before the door decides to close again."

He entered and stood full in the center of the room, sparing a single look behind him as the door slid shut. His full focus then rested on his daughter's rumpled bunk, and the shoes she'd kicked off on the serviceable woolen blanket.

For a full minute, they stood in silence, until Cate rounded the Admiral and sat herself down on the bed, perching on the edge, feet flat on the floor. Looking up at her father, she tilted her head to one side. "You were saying?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "You're going to make me repeat it? You _are_ your mother's daughter."

"I'm more my father's daughter."

And what was that light that crossed his expression? Pride? Resignation? Whatever—Mac quelled it before answering. "That you are."

"Then why can't you accept my choices?"

His eyes turned brilliant—before he closed the lids and shuttered himself again. "Cate—I wanted more for you."

"More than what?"

"More than this. Danger and death and destruction."

Cate's lips curved. "So, if I eliminate the letter 'd' from my alphabet, we should be good to go?"

"Catherine—"

She held up a hand. "I'm sorry. I know what you mean. You wanted a normal life for me. Little house in the country and a dog named Jingles. Three rugrats and a stationwagon—that kind of thing?"

His nod seemed benign. "Something like that."

"And instead you have a spy who seems hell-bent on finding trouble, after a not so glorious short Air Force career."

"That, too."

"It's not going to change." She looked at him deliberately, almost daring him to meet her eye. "_I'm_ not going to change."

And then he did meet her gaze—full on—intense. His eyes bored beyond her tough exterior and settled somewhere near her heart. "I know that. It just makes a father think that he's lost something—to know that his daughter doesn't need him anymore."

And that, Cate knew, was as close to an admission as she was likely to get. The wall she'd spent the last few years of her life erecting wrenched aside, beginning to crumble. She looked down at her hands—folded in her lap, and further down at where her stockinged feet seemed too white against the floor. Looked down to try and disguise the smile that stole across her features.

"And you can stop trying to hide your face, missy." His big feet shuffled closer to her. "I may have been worked over recently, but it didn't render me stupid."

Looking up, Cate regarded her father steadily. "So—you're okay with me being here?"

"No." He shrugged, then winced. "But that doesn't seem to matter all that much, now, does it?"

"Not really." Cate stood. "But it would be nice to be able to be on the same ship without having to check around every corner before I turn it."

Mac smiled, this time. "Not that you'd be afraid of me."

"Nope—really more like annoyed."

Suddenly, Cate found herself enveloped by her father's strong arms, pulled tightly against his chest, her face pressed into his collarbone. And it was as if she were a child again—that embrace felt natural, and right—like cool water after a walk in the desert. She wound her arms around his neck, stretching up on tip-toe to fit her cheek against his.

Behind them, another knock sounded on the door. Insistent, purposeful, the harsh rapping was accompanied by a voice. "Catherine! Are you still in there?"

_Vala_. Cate's grip slid a bit, and she let a tiny groan escape. "She and I were planning on eating together."

But the Admiral merely strengthened the embrace. "I don't want to lose you, Catie."

"I know, Dad." Her voice low, she pulled away just far enough to meet his eyes. "I don't want to lose you, either. But I have to do this. I have to find him."

And finally, he nodded. The Admiral raised a hand to cup her chin. "You'll be careful."

She grinned then—self effacing, sly. "Don't worry." Patting his arm, she stepped around him and towards the door, pressing the control and sending the panel sliding wide. And as Vala's smiling, bright face greeted her, she turned her head towards her dad. "I'm like you, remember?"

To which he replied, cocking one brow high. "That's what I'm worried about."


End file.
